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Binoculars

Vortex Fury Binoculars

Hank and his brother were lost. Their canoe sliced through the crystal clear water of the Current River. The sun had set a few minutes ago, and a spooky darkness was spilling out of the woods. Hank leaned forward, pulling out his non-slip grip, 25.7 oz, Vortex Fury Binoculars. He appreciated that their center diopter allowed him to make focusing adjustments without taking his eyes off his target. His 12.5×42 roof prism has an all-season construction and like all Vortex Fury Binoculars, it has fully multi-coated lenses that allow for increased light transmission. The phase correction used on the roof prism models enhances the resolution and contrast while the silver-coated prisms increase light transmission through the prism block, giving an exquisite image across the dark water. “Looks like we’re coming up on a gravel bar,” he muttered back to his brother, who steered the canoe.

“Is there a road?” A note of tension hung in his brother’s voice. Neither of them wanted to be on this river at night. They had heard the stories. There were things that came out of the Ozark hills at night. Rumors of Missouri cougars, and black bears, and Bigfoot.

His brother peered through his own binoculars, a Vortex Fury 10×32, a great all purpose binocular that weighs only 20 oz. Slightly smaller in size, it offers high magnification, clarity, contrast and excellent detail. Their tapered multi-position eyecups fit snugly against his eyes. “Looks like there’s someone there.” He sounded relieved.

They floated closer, and Hank got an eerie feeling. The Vortex Fury picked out the details on the person. He had entirely too much hair. “I think we should go back,” Hank whispered.

“I think you’re right.” His brother paddled backwards furiously. But the current dragged them around the bend, toward the shallows of the gravel bar. The hairy hulking shape moved toward them, across the gravel, it would break out of the willows and get them.

Ice seemed to slither down Hank’s collar. His brother had left their gun and GPS on their parents’ kitchen counter this morning. At that moment, the creature burst out of the willows and both boys jerked, flipping the canoe.

The water was frigid, his Vortex Fury was drenched, but the optics were waterproof, sealed with O ring technology and the fog-proof barrels would keep the change in temperature from messing up their performance. The canoe floated downstream as Hank and his brother scrambled for their things. Hank’s hand clasped the edge of the canoe, and he dragged his feet. His brother caught on the canoe and they glanced at the creature on the gravel bar. It was a bear. It glanced at them, shook itself, and pondered back into the willows. The boys looked at each other, shivering. They pulled up on the gravel bar. “Should we just spend the night here?” His brother asked.

“Heck no,” Hank replied. “I’m not waiting for that bear to come back.”

“Yeah.”

Hank peered down the river with his Vortex Fury Binoculars. There was another clearing not too far downstream. And he saw, yes, there it was. The curving line of the back of their truck which he would have never seen if not for the optical power of his Vortex Fury. “We’ll tell them it was Bigfoot.”